by Jen Ponce
I don't think such a thing is possible. At least, not with any magic I've heard of.
'I'd probably fuck things up and make it worse, anyway.' I heard the garage door snick shut and sighed. The Miata's engine roared to life soon after. 'Maybe there's something that would ease the pain?'
I heard her whisper inside me, more of the strange language she'd spoken when fighting the chythraul and the man in the alley. There was a tug in my stomach and warmth spread through my body. It wasn't the overwhelming calm the demon had pushed on me. This worked with my body and felt like it was under my control.
I slumped against the counter in relief. “Thank you.”
It's the least I could do. Perhaps you could get some rest. I fear you will need it. She, too, was thinking of Tytan and the woman from the park. I shivered.
'They'll be back?'
I fear so.
'I can't let them anywhere near my children,' I said, remembering Sophie screaming when the demon god touched her. 'What do I do? How do I protect them?'
I don't know.
'You don't know? Are you kidding me?' I shoved myself away from the counter and paced. 'You know magic. Surely that can help? And what about this thing inside me, the heart? Could that help? Aren't there ways to banish them?'
They aren't creatures of this world or mine. I don't know what I could throw at them that would do any damage. I will think on it.
Well shit. 'Think hard. For my children's sake.'
FIVE
Morning came too soon. I'd spent the rest of the day checking on my kids until they'd both shut themselves in their rooms begging for time alone. I bugged Arsinua until she'd snapped at me. I cannot think at all with you pestering me. For the love of your children, give me peace.
I had finally found sleep in the early hours, exhaustion stealing me away from the painful thoughts stabbing through my head.
I stumbled to the bathroom, knowing I would need a lot of chemical help to reduce the bags under my eyes and hide the fact that I'd spent the night awake and worrying. Makeup covered up what the eye cream couldn't de-puff.
After getting the kids up, fed, and to the bus—oh how I wished I could have kept them home where I could keep watch over them—I stumbled back upstairs, heading for a hot shower and some peace and quiet. I shut the bathroom door and leaned against it, eyes shut.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
I shrieked, my eyes flying open. Tytan Serce sat, elegant in white and cream, on my toilet. He laughed and I shushed him before realizing I should still be screaming. I opened my mouth, but he appeared lightning fast before me and put his hand over my mouth. His touch flooded calm into me again and the heat radiating from his body made me acutely aware there was nothing but a silk nightgown between us.
"Don't bring the family into this. They won't be able to see me, anyway." He dropped his hand from my mouth.
He didn't threaten me any further but then again, he didn't need to. I'd spent all of yesterday and most of the night imagining what might happen to my family.
I tried to still my racing heart by taking a deep breath or two. Or three. Fuck. That wasn't going to work.
"I have a proposal for you."
"Proposal?" I winced at my own shriek and made a conscious effort to whisper, hissing, "Excuse me? I don't want to listen to anything you propose."
He circled me as if inspecting me for purchase. "You aren't physically fit, that's true. A few years in the Slip would straighten you out."
"The Slip? I'm not going anywhere with you, I'm not leaving my family."
He sat again, looking as if he were a king on a throne rather than a freaky ass demon sitting on a toilet. “Corporeal beings are so tiresome at times. This proposal could only benefit you. I doubt you'd like how angry I would be if you refused. All I need is an assassin. To replace the one you stole from me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “It's not a fricking proposal if you force me into it. It's a threat.”
He chuckled. "I say potato, you say potahto. Right now, ignorant as you are, you wouldn't last a second against me. I suggest you relax. Live a little." He leaned forward, his brown eyes drawing me in despite myself. "I'm sure not having a family would free you up.”
“Don't touch my family.” I leveled a glare on him. “I'll kill you if you touch them.”
“If you truly wish to kill me, you'll have to learn how."
I spun on my heel to leave only to hear the witch shout, Don't turn your back on him! So I completed the turn, tripping over my feet and grinding my hipbone into the sharp corner of the sink. "Ow. Don't yell at me," I muttered at Arsinua, but I could tell her attention focused on my unwelcome visitor.
"You're speaking to the witch?" His voice was silky and amused.
I stared at him.
"Perhaps you can help this human, witch, as you are the cause of her troubles."
Most of my troubles. As far as I knew, Tom hadn't slept with Arsinua.
Don't trust a word he says. He lies with every breath.
"She says fuck off."
A crescent shaped dimple dented his cheek. A dimpled demon. I shook my head at the absurdity. He said, "Look for a solution to our problems, witch. Save this human from having to work for me."
I will never help him gain the heart. I'd rather die.
"Hello? Don't I have a say? I don't want to die. I don't want to have anything to do with this." I averted my gaze from him, unwilling to look at his alien eyes. They gave me the creeps.
It's part of who he is. Some Skriven inspire fear, some hatred, some gluttony. He inspires lust.
"Devany? Are you all right in there?" Tom, on the other side of the door, probably thinking I had come unhinged. Where had he been all night? With his 'girl on the side?'
"Fine. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?" I was holding my shush finger up to the demon. Later I might contemplate the wisdom of shushing a fricking maniac, but right then I had other things on my mind.
"I took the day off. We should talk."
The demon leaned back, the smirk on his face pissing me off. I flipped him the bird. "I haven't had my shower."
I didn't hear anything else. I reached into the shower and spun the taps. The noise might keep Tom alive if he lingered outside the door, listening. I looked at Tytan Serce and whispered, "Leave."
"Accept my proposal."
"To kill people? No."
He stood, tugging at his cuffs even though the jacket he wore fit him perfectly. "This is the last time I ask you."
"Good."
He smiled grimly. "Next time I apply pressure." He tipped his head thoughtfully to one side. "Which of your children would you choose to lose?"
My face flushed red.
Careful. He's goading you.
Yeah, well it was working. "Don't fucking mess with my kids."
He stepped close, wrapped a hand around my neck before I could move, before I even registered what he'd done. "I could drag you to the Slip and keep you there. You wouldn't have a choice. I could kill you now and take your children. Use them however I pleased. Appreciate the fact I'm giving you a chance to live through this."
"Devany? Who's in there with you?" Shit. Tom hadn't left.
But I couldn't talk, couldn't even breathe. The demon's eyes burned into me until I despaired they would be the last thing I ever saw. I clawed at his hands, kicked my feet. Pressure built in my head.
He shook me. "Your answer."
Don't, Devany. For your children's sakes. Never.
Couldn't breathe. Spots flashed before my eyes, my oxygen starved brain sending up S.O.S. flares. Then he released his grip, leaving me to stand gasping before him. I didn't know if I'd ever hated anyone as violently as I hated him. Not even Anabelle, although she was up there on the list.
"Your children or you. Which is it to be?"
Tom banged at the door. "Devany? What's going on? Answer me."
I couldn't force saliva down my abused throat. The tissues felt
swollen and raw. Tears smeared my cheeks. "Yes. Yes." The words burned. My throat clicked as I tried to swallow. "Just leave. Leave. I'll do anything you want if you leave my children alone."
His smile chilled me. Then he spoke—words that ate at my insides like acid and sent me to my knees on the cold tile. He plucked at the air and a knife appeared. One slice opened the skin on his palm. He put his hand to my lips. "Taste me."
I tried to pull away but he gripped the back of my head with his other hand.
"Taste me."
Tom banged on the door again. "Devany! Let me in. Are you okay?"
He pressed my head against his hand, twisting my hair until I gasped in pain and his blood spilled over my tongue. It was warm and when I swallowed it hit me like 100 proof liquor and left me gasping. "It is done. You are mine. Until I have no more use for you or until you kill me."
The pain faded as he left but I only had a moment to gather myself before Tom burst through the door. Okay, he didn't burst through, he merely picked the lock and rushed in.
"What the hell was going on? Who was in here with you?" He knelt beside me, tried to take me into his arms but retreated when I put a hand up. "What happened? Who was that?"
My hand shook as I wiped at my chin, staring at my hand in disbelief. I'd seen his blood, felt it smear across my face but my hand was clean. Stumbling upward, I lurched to the mirror. My face was pale but clean. Livid red marks stood out against the white of my neck where he'd pressed his fingers into my flesh.
"Devany."
"I'm fine. I'm fine. Please." I wanted him out of the bathroom so I could cry.
"I'm going to call the police."
"No. Please don't." I backed away when he reached for me. "Don't touch me."
Guilt stained his face. "You're hurting. I'm so sorry."
I shook my head. I didn't know him anymore and didn't want this stranger to put his hands on me in any way. "Just leave me alone."
His jaw tightened. He nodded, then left.
"Don't call the police," I called after him. "I'm fine."
He stepped back into the room. "Who the hell was it? Who was in here with you? Where did they go?"
A tingle thrummed through me. Arsinua whispered in my mind and a noise behind me made me turn. The screen in the bathroom window fluttered in the breeze, torn along the bottom.
Tom pushed past me to the window, sticking his head out. "The ladder is up against the house. I left it there after I cleaned the gutters." He straightened and stared at me, his face pale. "It's my fault."
Yes. It's your fault. Aloud, I said, "You didn't force him up the ladder. You didn't force him in here."
He glanced at me, his eyes shining with tears. "He wouldn't have gotten in here if it weren't for me."
I started to reassure him, then realized I didn't have it in me. Maybe I'd cried out my compassion for him. Now I was tired. "Whatever, Tom. I need some privacy. Please."
The pain was back and that spark of anger that made me want to retreat from his gaze. He left the room without another word and I waited until I couldn't hear him anymore before I shut the bathroom door and whispered, "Arsinua?"
Disapproval radiated from her as well as disgust. The disgust was worse. I could live with her pissed at me. It hadn't been her children the bastard had threatened. "What happened?"
She didn't want to talk to me but I kept at her. "I don't have long before the police are over here expecting me to tell them who broke into the bathroom." With Tom's guilt raging hot, I didn't think for a second he would listen to me and not call the cops.
You cannot speak of him.
"Like they'd believe me. You think I'm insane? I want to know what I agreed to. What pact did I make with him?"
You are now his Archaeon Tezrya.
"Arka what?"
Archaeon. Assassin. Because of the heart, because of me, he has made you Tezrya. Right hand woman.
Right hand woman? What the hell? I didn't even have time to think about the implications because I didn't want to be interviewed while I wore my robe. Cursing, I left the bathroom and dressed. My life: from semi-boring but content to a nightmare in sixty seconds. From wife, mother, advocate to spider/witch possessed Archaeon Tezrya.
I do not possess you.
She sounded a little pissed. I guess I couldn't blame her. It would be hell trapped in a stranger's body. Sharing space with a spider. Oh yeah, great fun.
Sighing, I pulled my hair back into a loose bun and fastened it with some clips before heading down. The only good thing I could see coming from my pact with the demon was I'd bought the safety of my kids. I didn't expect it would last but I'd bought Arsinua some time to get rid of him for good.
I will try.
She didn't sound hopeful. 'Do what you can.'
Tom sat at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.
“Where did you go yesterday?” To her?
He looked up at me. “I stayed at the Hilton. Didn't think you would want me around and to be honest, I needed some time to think. And look, the one night I'm gone, someone breaks in. You and the kids could have been hurt.”
I had been hurt, though the pain had already faded. I wondered if Arsinua had anything to do with that. “It happened this morning and you were here,” I reminded him. “Did Anabelle enjoy the hotel?” I felt satisfaction at his hurt look, petty thought that was.
“I told you I ended it with her. I spent last night alone.” He put his head in his hands, elbows on the table. “Thinking.”
“Figuring out ways to pin this on me?” He didn't look up but flinched like I'd hit him. Fuck. I was better than this. “We both need time. Apart. I'm too angry and hurt right now to be reasonable.”
“I'm not leaving this house.”
“Then stay in the guest room,” I snapped. “You want to have this out now, then we're done. I want a divorce.” The moment they were out I regretted those words. Hell. Panic welled. What had I done? Just tossed a fifteen year marriage down the tubes and for what? A little betrayal?
He didn't respond. Then his shoulders began to shake.
Not reaching out my hand to comfort him was one of the hardest things I've done.
SIX
Tom hadn't called the cops, which was a relief. I didn't feel up to lying about the break in, though when I thought about it, there had been one. Tytan hadn't climbed in the window but he'd violated my personal space just the same.
We'd agreed he would stay in the guest room and we would wait to tell the kids tonight. He hadn't looked at me since getting up from the table. He wasn't a crying man; his dad had been too adamant that real men didn't show emotion, and I supposed he hadn't wanted me to see him weak.
The scuff of his shoes brought my attention to the doorway. He looked defeated, a medley of emotions playing out over his face, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. “I'm going to work.”
“Me too.”
Silence stretched between us.
As he walked past me his hand lifted but I slid away from him, still unwilling to let him touch me.
I gave him a few minutes to leave before getting into my own car. Unlike Tom, I wasn't sure work was a great idea. Helping others through their pain was easier when my heart wasn't broken. When I knew I had support at home to make me feel better.
The Caring Shelter was a former no-tell motel converted to our offices and safe rooms for women, children, and men. The motel had been a lucky find, auctioned off by the city after being seized because of drug activity and prostitution. That it was now used to help many of the people victimized by both drugs and prostitution made it even better.
Most days I was happy to go to work.
The motel was shaped like a W. Our offices were in the middle, men's rooms on the left and women's on the right. We were lucky to have that split, too. Often shelters weren't able to accommodate male survivors and had to put them up in hotels.
I parked my car near the old, filled in pool that we used for a fenced in play yard, a
nd walked in. The office was busy when I arrived—late because I had stopped at the store to buy a pretty scarf to cover my bruises. A woman with a fussing baby sat in the waiting room around the corner from the door, her eye blackened and her expression stony. I walked by Janice and Theresa's offices, waving as I passed.
My desk sat crammed in the back office between the water cooler and the fax machine that hummed, coughed, and spit out misaligned pages at random times. I slipped my purse under my desk and flipped on my computer. It didn't take long for Danni to creep into my office. She kept her long hair brushed down around her face as if she hoped to keep the world out with it.
"You were late today." Her soft voice barely carried over the noise of the office. She hunched against the wall, hidden inside her baggy clothes.
"Yeah. I had a bad morning." Bad weekend. Bad marriage. Tears threatened and I cursed under my breath.
"Is everything okay?" Her eyes were shadowed with worry as she imagined the worst. She'd been conditioned to.
"No." I sighed. Steeled myself to say the words. Out with it, Devany. "Tom is having an affair." Better to get it out than let it simmer between us, unsaid, growing in Danni's imagination until she had Tom beating me with a baseball bat.
"Oh." She ducked her head. "I'm so sorry."
I let a shoulder drop. "Eh. I'm numb."
She fiddled with the hem of her baggy sweater. "Anything I can do?"
Many smart-ass remarks flew through my head but I wrangled my tongue. "Keep me in your good thoughts," I said, finally.
She nodded, took a step back, and then nodded again. "I'm sorry." She faded out of the room and left me alone.
The computer chimed. I logged in with my password and then checked my messages. Half were junk I deleted. One was from my brother, asking me if I planned to come back for our school reunion that summer. I opened up a new message and typed “never”. Then I sat back and stared at the screen, my lip curled. I'd been out of school twenty years now. Maybe it was time to go back and face the demons of high school. Hell, I'd faced a real demon, what could a few snotty shits from school do to me now?